


Mad

by ericaismeg



Series: 30 Days of Writing [21]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fights, Hurt, Hurt Stiles, I am very sorry for that, I don't know what to tag this as, M/M, POV Alternating, Stiles and Derek fight, Worried Derek, but then they make up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/ericaismeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott pats his knee. “I get it, Stiles. It sucks that he hurt you. But I still think you should give him a second chance. He’s more miserable than you.”</p>
<p>            He just stares at his best friend, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. He’s not in love with Derek Hale. That’s fucking ridiculous.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>His sisters convince Derek to show up unannounced at Stiles' door. Stiles has been mad with him for three months now, and it's about time that Derek fixes that. And maybe, while he's at it, he might accidentally reveal exactly how he feels about Stiles?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mad

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing this [writing challenge](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/84097258077/felicitygs-spontaneousfangasm).
> 
> Day Twenty One.
> 
> NINE DAYS LEFT.
> 
> Word of the day: mad.
> 
> ***  
>  Please note that in this fic, Derek technically locks Stiles up in his bedroom (alone) for six hours while the rest of the pack deals with some bad guys. This is only spoken about. If this idea bothers anyone, I suggest you head on out to another, fluffier fic! :) 

“Fuck, Derek, you need to stop sulking. I’m starting to  _taste_ it,” Laura says, dramatic as ever. She grabs a pillow and whips it at Derek. He lets it hit him, and fall down to the floor. He tries not to react, but he’s sure he flinched. She rolls her eyes, and then looks at Cora. “Can  _you_ taste it?”

            “It’s kind of like defeat and uselessness? Yep, I taste it and it’s _awful_ ,” Cora says. She leans forward on the couch beside Derek and picks up the fallen pillow. She hits him in the shoulder with it. He’s not quite sure why his sisters always hit him to get their points across. “Why don’t you _do_ something about it, Derek? We’re tired of this moping around shit.”

            He gives them both a glare, and keeps his mouth shut. Eventually, his sisters would get bored and leave him alone. They need distractions though, and Derek’s not sure if that’s going to happen anytime soon. It’s gotten suspiciously quiet in Beacon Hills, and they’re the only ones from their pack who are home for the weekend. For once, Derek wishes Peter is home. He’s out travelling, probably annoying the hell of some poor strangers.

            “You should go visit him,” Laura suggests. There’s no question as to whom she’s referring. Derek shifts, uncomfortable under their prying eyes. “Just apologize for whatever you did to fuck up so badly, and start smelling happy again.”

            “No,” Derek says.

            Cora leans over and puts her hand in Derek’s. “He’ll take you back in a heartbeat. That boy loves you far too much. Just go make it better.”

            Derek studies his younger sister. God, she’s grown up into a smart woman. He’s grateful because when Matt Daeheler hit on her last week, she’d punched him in the gut. Derek’s sure he still has to ice his stomach. Derek doesn’t know what Matt had said to her, but he’d watched him hobble off from a distance and hadn’t bothered to hide his snicker. He doesn’t have to worry too much about her because she’s a werewolf. She has more strength than any normal human being does.

            More physical strength than Stiles, that’s for sure. He closes his eyes at the thought. He hasn’t talked to Stiles for _three months_ now. Derek is starting to wonder if Stiles would ever acknowledge his text messages or his general existence again. He gets up from the couch and goes into the kitchen.

            He’d just start dinner early. Laura and Cora would follow, he knows, but at least he’ll have something to distract himself with. Derek opens the cupboards.

            It would be so nice to see Stiles right now, to glance over and have his smiling face watching him. Derek can almost picture it clearly. They’d been doing it every day since the Nogitsune had occurred, and Stiles had leaned on Derek a little more than he ever had before.

            Why can’t they go back to that? Derek wonders. He’s also curious to know if Stiles is still having nightmares. Derek’s texted Stiles a few times around one or two in the morning, just in case he’s awake and scared.

 

_It’ll be okay, Stiles._

 

            Stiles never responds, but at least Derek takes comfort in knowing that maybe, just maybe, he catches Stiles on a rough night and offers some sort of comfort and support.

            By the time he’s started the pasta, both his sisters join him in the kitchen.

            “Stiles will forgive you, Derek,” Cora says, her voice soft.

            “Text messages are easy to ignore or delete. Make it harder to ignore you,” Laura says as she sits down onto the stool. She shrugs. “It’s worth a shot, right? I mean, the worst that’s going to happen is that he’ll shut the door in your face. It’ll just be like him ignoring a text message. If you _try_ , we’ll leave you alone. You can sulk and be miserable and we’ll just quietly be here for you.”

            He thinks about it for a minute as he turns away to grab the next ingredient.        

            When he turns back to look at his worried sisters, he nods. “Okay.”

            Anything to get them to stop bugging him, he thinks.

            And maybe there’s a bit of hope that Stiles will forgive him.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            “You’re making this too easy tonight,” Scott tells Stiles. He turns off the game, and when Stiles protests, he adds, “Nope. I’m done tonight. You know what I think you should do?”

            “Order pizza?” Stiles asks, hopeful. He knows that’s not what’s coming. He just clings to the hope that it is. It would be nice if they could hang out for a few hours without Concerned Scott being concerned. It’s not that Stiles doesn’t appreciate how much Scott cares about him, it’s that it’s tough. He’s running out of reasons, out of excuses, out of explanations. Nothing seems to be good enough for the pack.

            “That’s a good idea, but _no_. You should reply to Derek,” Scott says as he walks into the kitchen. Scott grabs a pop can from the fridge. He tosses one over to Stiles, who barely catches it, and then he grabs one for himself. “Seriously, dude. Your phone keeps going off, and I _know_ it’s him.”

            “Scott, what part of _I’m mad at Derek_ , don’t you get? He was such an asshole to me, and you expect me to just...what, forgive him? He hasn’t even technically apologized!” Stiles frowns at his can of _Orange Crush_. Derek used to buy a pack every week just to keep in the house for Stiles. He hadn’t even liked it. Stiles presses his lips together and exhales deeply. It’s stupid, the little things that remind him of the friend who had been shitty. “He messed up, and I’m not going to forgive him just because he’s _Derek_ and one of my friends.”

            “You would if it was me,” Scott points out as he joins Stiles back on the couch. Stiles gives him a _duh_ expression.

            “Well, _yeah_ , but that’s you. Dumbass,” Stiles says, smiling a little. “I just don’t see the big deal if Derek and I are friends or not. It doesn’t change anything within the pack.”

            “Except that you’ve skipped Pack Night for the past _three_ months.” Scott points a finger at Stiles and wiggles it around in the air. He’s daring Stiles to explain it away. _Dammit_ , _Scott._

            “School’s been busy,” Stiles says, shrugging. He knows it’s weak.

            “Dude, we _live_ together. I know what your work load is like, and it’s not _that_ bad.” Scott gives Stiles his best serious look. Stiles knows what’s coming next. “You should hear him out.”

            “Maybe,” Stiles mutters. “You don’t know, Scott. _You_ weren’t there.”

            “I know,” Scott’s voice drops into his soft tone. Stiles is a sucker for that tone. He has a hard time keeping any sort of stance. “But Stiles, you miss him, and I hate seeing you this distance from everyone. I just want you to be happy again, and Derek makes you happy.”

            Stiles shrugs.

            “Stiles, it’s okay to be hurt by him because you’re in love with him, you know.”

            Stiles’ head whips up. “ _What_?”

            Scott pats his knee. “I get it, Stiles. It sucks that he hurt you. But I still think you should give him a second chance. He’s more miserable than you.”

            He just stares at his best friend, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. He’s _not_ in love with Derek Hale. That’s fucking ridiculous.

            “Dude, Isaac just texted me—I forgot that I promised him we’d study for the anatomy class together. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Scott asks.

            Stiles just nods.

            And looks down at his _Orange Crush_ can. No fucking way.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            Derek is still unsure of himself after a four-hour drive to Stiles’ college dorm room. He’s had the time to think about it. He could lie and say that he tried. His sisters are sure to ask around in the pack, if not ask Stiles directly. Derek tells himself that he’s trying to get Laura and Cora off his back, but as he stares at the number seventeen on the door, he’s positive that that’s not why he’s here.

            God, he and Stiles had been _so close_. Derek had almost thought he’d been falling for Stiles. It’d just been so damn easy between them. On the nights that Stiles woke up with a bad nightmare, he’d shoot Derek a text. Within ten minutes, Derek had been there, holding him, and easing him back to sleep.

            Sometimes they’d lie there, and talk into the sunrise. Stiles used to confide in him all the awful things he thought and Derek had started to do the same. Stiles had never judged him for the things he’d said aloud about Paige’s death, or about his parents’ deaths. Stiles had told him about his mother’s, and from what Derek had gathered from Scott, Stiles doesn’t talk about his mother to just anyone.

            There’d been extra rough nights, and Stiles had reached out for Derek’s hand. They’d never talked about that though, never even acknowledging it with a look. Derek had nuzzled into Stiles, holding him close, and reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

            When Stiles had decided he had wanted to go to school for writing, everyone else had been a little put off. Not Derek—he’d been honoured by Stiles trusting him with some of his written work. The kid could write. Perhaps it’s because he’s seen more than any human probably should, but either way, he had a talent.

            The Sheriff had thought Stiles would enter the police force as well, but had supported Stiles anyway. In fact, the whole pack had supported Stiles, it’s just that no one had expected it. Lydia had told Stiles that she’s sure he’s creative enough to manage it, but she’d be surprised that he hadn’t decided to become a teacher. She claimed he’d had the right amount of intelligence and love for people. Scott had always thought that Stiles would end up doing something in law. Derek’s sure the rest of the pack had seen Stiles in some career choice like that as well.

            He’d been the only one to know just how passionate Stiles had become about his writing. It’d been a way to express himself in ways that he’d never be able to do properly otherwise. Derek had been granted permission to have copies of Stiles’ writing, as long as Laura and Cora _never_ , ever found it. He’d felt so damn lucky in that moment.

            Sometimes Stiles wrote extremely dark things. It might just be a line here or there, but it’d remind Derek just how much pain the kid had gone through.

            Now Derek is standing in front of Stiles’ door, wondering how the hell things had become so shitty between them.

            He takes a deep breath and knocks.

            It takes a mere second for Derek to locate and focus on Stiles’ heartbeat. There’s shuffling and then a stumble. A minute later, after Stiles has picked himself off the ground, the door swings open.

            Stiles looks rough. He hasn’t been sleeping well, Derek can tell. Stiles blinks.

            “Hi,” Derek says, his throat thick.

            Stiles blinks again. And then the door is swinging shut.

            Derek’s not sure what to do, so he rushes down the hall and calls Cora.

            “He just slammed the door shut,” Derek tells her when she picks up. Perhaps ‘slams’ isn’t accurate, but it felt like it.

            “ _Get your ass back there, right now_!” Cora shouts into the phone. He winces. “ _Get your ass back there, right now Derek. You need to prove to him that you’re not going anywhere. You’re both idiots. Go._ ”

            She hangs up, clearly assuming that he’s going to try again.

            Derek turns around and looks down the hall.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            _Holy fuck_ , Stiles thinks staring at his dorm room door as if he’s never seen it before. He’d just shut the door on Derek. How could he have done that? He _is_ mad at Derek, but so mad that he won’t listen to what he has to say? Well, yes. He is. He has been ignoring his messages for three months now.

            Maybe it’s because Derek doesn’t seem to know what he did wrong. Maybe it’s because he knows if he acknowledged Derek in any way, all of his anger would disappear. God, he has no self-control when it comes to Derek.

            He remembers the first time he’d woken up to a nightmare when his dad had been on nights. He’d just texted Derek, thinking that he’s the only one who wouldn’t tell anyone else. Not that Stiles thinks Scott would tell anyone on purpose, but he might let it slip to Allison or Kira that he’d gotten a text from Stiles at 1:04AM saying that life fucking sucks.

            Derek hadn’t responded. He’d just been at his window ten minutes later, pulling it up, and stepping in. Stiles remembers being unsure how to react, until Derek crawled into the bed beside him. He’d just wrapped his arms around him, and all the words of _promise not to tell anyone_ disappeared from Stiles’ mind. He’d just curled up and cried.

            Stiles had never had to ask Derek not to tell anyone. He knew he wouldn’t. He also knows that after that moment, Stiles would never be the same. He would rely on Derek more than anyone else.

            It had happened quickly. He’d find himself exhausted from a crappy night and entering the Hale house. Sometimes Derek and Stiles would curl up on the couch—at opposite ends—and watch some shit movies. Sometimes they’d eat together. There’s been a couple times they’d gone running. They went bowling, just them, once. It’d been fun.

            Whenever Derek would suggest something new, Stiles would be nodding before the words had finished coming out of his mouth. Stiles had wanted to anything and everything with Derek Hale. When they’d curl up in bed together after another one of Stiles’ nightmares, Derek would sometimes let him hold his hand.

            Should that have been Stiles’ first clue? He doesn’t know.

            But he’d just shut the door on one of the best people he knows.

            Even if he’s mad at Derek, that’s a bit rude.

            Stiles steps forward, prepared to open the door, only to hear a knock first. He yanks the door open.

            “Don’t shut it this time,” Derek rushes to say.

            Stiles remembers why he’s mad at him, and closes his eyes briefly. _God it hurts_. He steps back though, and lets Derek into his room. They’re not going to talk in the hallway. That’d just be awkward as hell if anyone walked by.

            Derek almost jogs in, and Stiles wonders if he’s just as desperate to be around Stiles as Stiles is feeling about Derek.

            He knew it. He knew seeing Derek would be a game changer for his anger. Derek spins around to look at him. “Stiles, listen—”

            He pauses. Stiles shuts the door and says, “I’m listening.”

            Derek’s running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, fuck.”

            “Didn’t think about what you’d say?” Stiles asks. He’s trying not to be amused, but goddammit, if that’s not like Derek.

            “Shut up,” Derek mutters.

            “Hey, I’m expecting a grand apology, not an insult,” Stiles says dryly before he can stop himself. Derek’s eyes widened in shock and apologises. Stiles leans back against the door. “I’m not being serious. Take your time.”

            Derek seems to relax a little at those words. “Stiles, I’m sorry.”

            “And?” Stiles prompts.

            “And I don’t think you understand why I did what I did.”

            “You _locked_ me in your bedroom for _six_ hours with no way to get out. Yeah, I don’t think I understand why you did it either. I could’ve helped,” Stiles says, bitterness in his voice. The anger of what Derek had done is starting to come back, and Stiles isn’t as relieved as he thought he’d be.

            Fuck Derek. Fuck making him like Jell-o when it comes to him. Fuck it. Just...Derek looks so damn cute when he’s worried. Stiles is screwed.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            “I know,” Derek says. He just wants to tangle himself in Stiles, and knows he can’t. He’d had a four-hour drive to think about what he’d say. He’s not sure he’d come up with anything. He starts to pace, nervous, and worried.

            Derek knows what he wants to say to Stiles, but he also knows that none of it is appropriate. It could freak Stiles out—hearing how crazy Derek has gone realizing that Stiles’ scent is fading from the house, from his couch, his bed. He’d stopped by to visit the Sheriff a couple times, if only to feel at home for an hour here and there.

            The Sheriff hadn’t pried to ask what had happened between him and his son. Instead, the Sheriff kept him up to date on what Stiles’ had been doing during the last three months. Derek is grateful for that. He’s always liked the Sheriff, but he’s not sure how to thank him for the quiet way he’s helped keep Derek sane.

            He’d listened intensely as the Sheriff told him about the latest assignment Stiles had gotten, or how he’d gone to a party only to have to take a drunken Jackson back early. Derek had laughed at the way the Sheriff had mimicked Stiles’ voice as he told the story. It had felt good.

            As always, he’d remember that Stiles is mad at him.

            And as always, Derek would ask when he could visit again before he left.

            Derek looks at Stiles now and wonders what he’d say if Derek could tell him exactly how he feels.

            He’d probably laugh.

            No, Stiles is too nice for that. He’d give him his look of pity though. It’d be similar to the one he gives Jackson when the kid starts to annoy him.

            “Look, Stiles, I know you think it’s because I doubted your abilities. Cora clued me in this morning,” Derek blurts. “I’m so sorry.”

            Cora had been amazingly helpful.

            “Doubted me?” Stiles asks, with an edge to his voice that Derek’s never had directed at him before.

            It bothers him.

            “Derek, I could’ve helped. I could’ve helped prevent Allison being shot,” Stiles says, bitterly. He waves a hand around in the air. “Instead she was stuck in the hospital for two weeks in recovery. If I had been there, she would’ve had another person looking out for her! Maybe I would’ve noticed the asshole behind her, unlike the rest of you!”

            Derek knows this. Cora had sat him down and explained the gist of what she’d gotten out of Scott. He doesn’t know how to explain how he had been feeling while they’d been dealing with that witch and the hunters who’d followed her. He keeps pacing, only pausing for a second to look at Stiles. “She’s okay, she’s fine, and she’s alive. Stiles, I know you think you could’ve helped, but there’s no way you’d know that.”

            Stiles just looks at him with the most sceptical expression Derek’s ever seen him make. It makes him pace a little harder. When Stiles doesn’t say anything, doesn’t argue, Derek has to rub the back of his neck with both hands. God, this kid makes him anxious. What if he can’t explain to Stiles why he did what he did? What if the right words don’t come?

            What if Stiles can’t forgive him?

            Derek can’t handle that.

            “You could’ve gotten hurt. It could’ve been you,” Derek says, his expression full of concern. He wonders if he sees Stiles soften before he grows harder than before. “I’m sorry that it was Allison, I _am_. I’ve grown quite fond of Allison and I would die for her.”

            Stiles studies him. “You would?”

            “Of course I would,” Derek says, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’s like a sister to me, Stiles. I’m not a fan of her aunt, but I have Peter and no one holds him against me.”

            Stiles nods in agreement. “Does Allison know that?”

            “Sure,” Derek says, not understanding the importance of that.

            Stiles sighs in frustration. “Derek, you should _tell_ her that.”

            “But I show her?” Derek asks.

            “No,” Stiles says. “You need to tell her that you care about _her_ , and that Kate has no effect on how you feel about Allison. Those are words that people need to hear sometimes.”

            “I...oh.”

            “But that’s not why I’m mad at you. You fucking locked me up!” Stiles shouts. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

            “Stiles, the witch—the hunters—they were _dangerous_.”

            “So what?” Stiles flails his arms a little. “So has everything we’ve dealt with been!”

            “I know,” Derek says quietly. He can’t stay still. “Stiles, _I_ know, and you shouldn’t have had to deal with any of it.”

            Stiles just shakes his head in disbelief.

             “It could’ve been you and I would’ve...” Derek lets the words trail off.

            “What?” Stiles asks, sounding a little breathless. “You would’ve _what_ , Derek?”

            Derek hears Stiles’ heart pounding fast and hard. That’s odd. He’s not the one who’s pacing. “I wouldn’t have been okay, if you had gotten hit. If you had gotten hurt. If something had happened to you, I wouldn’t be okay. I would go crazy. I would...Stiles. I would be shattered. The witch, the hunters, they were _dangerous_.”

            “ _I’m_ dangerous,” Stiles mutters, but Derek sees something change in his expression. Suddenly, Derek has a little hope.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            Stiles can’t seem to breathe. Hadn’t he said something freakishly similar to Lydia when he had thought he’d been in love with her? Granted, those feelings had changed into an intensely platonic relationship, but the words had remained true. Now, Derek is saying something so damn close to what he’d said.

            And Stiles wants to believe him. God, does he want to believe him.

            Derek stops pacing, _finally_ , to study him. “Stiles, you’re my best friend. I haven’t been this close to someone in forever. I’ve never felt this comfortable. The last person who made me like this was Paige.”

            Stiles isn’t breathing anymore. He’s not sure he’s even alive. He’s trying to wrap his mind around Derek’s words. This is _huge_ for Derek. This is...Stiles doesn’t know what this is. His chest is tightening.

            There’s no anger left in Stiles, but he has to stick to his principles.

            “You locked me up.”

            “Because you scare me, Stiles,” Derek tells him softly.

            “ _How_?” Stiles asks, starting to move. He wants to crawl out of his skin, because he feels the weight of Derek’s confession. How the hell can he stay mad at Derek when the guy has told him—in his own way—that he loves him? Stiles is loved by Derek. Yeah, on some level he’d known that. Hearing it, however, is a completely different type of knowledge. “How the hell can I scare you? I’m a silly little human.”

            Derek steps forward, reaching out and holding Stiles still with two light grips on his arms. “That’s why you scare me. You can’t heal as quickly as the werewolves, can’t protect yourself with a bow like Allison, sense when death and danger is in the air like Lydia. You could be hurt so badly that...and I just...”

            “You locked me up because you were protecting me,” Stiles says, his tone flat.

            “Yes,” Derek sounds a little desperate. “I knew you’d be upset, but Stiles. I just can’t lose you. I’m _sorry_.”

            Stiles glances down at his hands on Stiles’ arms.

            “Stiles, I’m going out of my mind. I’m driving my sisters crazy whenever they’re home. I can’t stop wishing you’d text me back. I can’t seem to do anything anymore. I have a ridiculous amount of _Orange Crush_ and I started drinking it even though I don’t like it. I just want you to come home and be home and be with me.” Derek frowns. “I mean, be around me. I miss you.”

            “You miss me,” Stiles murmurs. “You drank my favourite pop?”

            “I’m miserable without you. I know what I did is awful, but trust me, not hearing from you for three months was a damn good punishment.” Derek lets his hands fall away, but neither of them move otherwise. “I just...I’m so sorry, Stiles. I never meant to hurt you; I just wanted you away from the danger.”

            He nods, unsure what to say. Where do they go from here? Stiles replays Derek’s words in his head. He asks, “You were a Sad Wolf?”

            Derek snorts, surprised by his own reaction. He confirms, “Sad Wolf.”

            Stiles rolls his eyes. “I hate you. Because how can I let you be Sad Wolf?”

            “I...”

            “I don’t actually hate you, Derek. Stop it,” Stiles says waving his hand around. “You implied that I’m not valuable when you didn’t trust me to take care of my pack that night. You know that, right?”

            “You’re _too_ valuable, Stiles.” Derek inhales sharply. “Too fucking valuable, do you understand me? I couldn’t lose you, and I knew you’d never stay home willingly.”

            “Damn straight I wouldn’t,” Stiles says, but he finds himself smiling a little.

            “Do you think we can go back to being okay?” Derek asks.

            Stiles studies him. Scott's right. He's so fucking in love with Derek that he's having a hard time remembering why he was mad. Stiles takes a deep breath. He has to make sure that Derek understands what happened isn't okay, but he also has to figure out how to tell Derek he's crazy about him.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞           

 

            Derek waits for the answer. He can’t hear Stiles’ heartbeat because his is pounding against his chest too hard.

            “You text me, on nights that I have nightmares,” Stiles states, and Derek nods. “It’s...I _know_ you care about me. But you can’t lock me up for six hours to protect me. I’m not as fragile as you think, okay?”

            “I know, Stiles. I just—”

            “I get it,” Stiles interrupts. “I get it. You were worried, and probably for good reason. But Derek, you can’t take away my choice from me. It’s my decision to be there for the showdowns. It’s my decision to protect my friends and family. You don’t get to do that for me.”

            “Stiles,” Derek starts.

            “You meant it, right?” Stiles whispers.

            “Meant what?” Derek asks, confused.

            “When you said you loved me,” Stiles replies.

            “I didn’t—”

            “You did,” Stiles tells him. “Maybe it wasn’t stated in that order—I love you—but you still told me.”

            Derek rubs the back of his neck. He glances away from Stiles, wondering if he’d done that. He _does_ love Stiles. He can’t be too sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, Derek had known he would rather die than let Stiles get as much as a paper cut. Stiles steps closer to him, and Derek realizes it’s his turn to hold his breath. He lifts his head to look at Stiles.

            “I told you,” he whispers.

            Stiles smiles a little. Then he’s stepping closer again. He puts two fingers on Derek’s chin, guiding his head towards his. Their lips touch. Derek had always assumed their first kiss—if they were to have one, that is—would be in a passionate make-out session, being pushed against the wall. He hadn’t expected this tenderness.

            “Are you still mad?” Derek asks when they break apart. He’s confused, because he hadn’t expected that 180.

            “Mad about you,” Stiles murmurs. He slips his hands into Derek’s. “I accept your apology, and your declaration of love.”

            “But I didn’t—”

            “Didn’t you, though?” Stiles asks.

            Derek finds himself smiling. “Yeah, I guess I did. And you?”

            “I would be broken if anything happened to you. Promise me you’ll let me make my own decisions?” Stiles asks. “No exceptions.”

            “Promise,” Derek murmurs. “Stiles?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I’m mad about you too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> slkjdsklfjdsklfjdskljfkdsljfkdsl. I'm not sure I conveyed the apology well enough for Stiles to be able to forgive Derek. I'm not sure I redeemed Derek enough? _I tried_.
> 
> I also don't know why I always make Derek the bad guy when they fight. I'm going to have to try my hand at Stile being the one who fucks up. This writing challenge has been fun because I've gotten to do a little bit of everything, and try out different storylines/scenes/settings/styles (like this is my first alternating POV for Sterek fics)/etc. But this is the second (third? idk) fic where Derek's been the one who needs to apologize to Stiles. I should mix that up.
> 
> Also I think I'm better at writing fluff. I don't think angst~ is my thing, but I'll roll with it since that's what came out today.
> 
> Wow, I talk a lot in my notes.
> 
> · [come say hi on tumblr! ](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com)  
> · [ Here](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/86068765337/below-the-read-more-you-will-find-a-sneak-peek) is where you will find a Sneak-Peek Preview of the first chapter of Just the Same, a 64,000 word fic that is completely finished. I will be posting a chapter every Monday and Thursday starting June 2nd, 2014. This was posted in an apology for having missed my two days. (I'm shameless yo.)


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